Her Alien Commander (18 page)

“I understand. I will prepare for a low key diplomatic visit.”

“Excellent. Keep the High Commission informed of progress. Mehner out.” The communication channel went dead.

Caria stared at Phahlen. “You’re leaving?”

“Just for a few hours, probably. It won’t take long to impress upon
Kaereef
Harok the error of her ways and remind her of the consequences if her colonial outposts do not conform to interstellar protocols.”

“But I’ve heard all about the Teek. They’re vicious.” A warlike race, the Teek had wrought havoc across several galaxies for generations until their activities had been curbed by the combined efforts of several planets. Outbreaks of violence continued to erupt from time to time.

“Yes,” agreed Phahlen, “if they are allowed to be. Since their last defeat by the interstellar alliance they are near enough powerless, but they like to keep us on our toes.”

“You know this
Kaereef
Harok?” Caria was bewildered by the sudden surge of jealousy. “What was that incident you mentioned?”

“I did not mention it, Governor Mehner did. It was nothing, a misunderstanding. The
Kaereef
learnt of our need for females and she offered her services. The Teek are humanoid, as I’m sure you know, but their DNA is incompatible with that of Vahleans. I declined her offer, which she found not to her liking.”

“A woman scorned?”

“Not the description I would have applied, but I believe I take your meaning.”

“When will you leave?”

“You heard the governor say we were a couple of cycles away from the Juno sector. Unfortunately, though, I won’t be able to spend much time with you before I leave. The preparations for a mission such as this need to be meticulous and I am going to spend a lot of time between now and then in briefings.” He stood, then bent to kiss Caria on the forehead. “I need to make a start so our game will have to wait, and I am going to need you to go back into the bedroom, please. You can send your message to Earth from there.”

Caria rose, obedient, and padded back into the sleeping chamber. “Will I see you again before you leave?”

“I expect so. I will be back when I can, between briefings.”

He kissed her again, this time on the mouth. “Send your message, and try not to worry about your mother. Or me.”

“I wasn’t worrying about you,” she retorted.

Not true. She was. He grinned as he left her, as if he knew.

Bastard.

* * *

A plan was starting to form in Caria’s head. In her hours of enforced solitude she had plenty of time to think, and she put the time to good use. Some of the details were hazy, and she needed to make use of the on board computer to acquire the vital information she needed. She blessed the fact that her needs were quite obscure so not likely to attract suspicion but even so her plan would require luck, and nerve. A lot of nerve. If she failed, she hardly dared contemplate Phahlen’s punishment.

But she wouldn’t fail. She couldn’t, not this time. This time she had so much more to lose, not least of all her child once Phahlen became aware of her pregnancy. She would be banished to Vahle, and she would be trapped there because the prospect of leaving alone was not to be contemplated. She had a decent chance of getting away now, but that would evaporate if she had to make the attempt with a small child.

When she had attempted to escape before, it had been a spur of the moment impulse…
no plan, no preparation. This would be different. She had thought it through, prepared for it. This could work.

Phahlen returned to his quarters on the day of the planned mission. He seemed preoccupied, his mind on other tasks, but he still made time to spread Caria out on his bed and suck on her clit until she came, screaming. He fucked her then, a swift, almost perfunctory coupling. He had his uniform back on almost before Caria stopped quivering.

“I hate to fuck and run but I have to leave. There are some final checks on the satellite craft that require me to be there, and I need to brief Baren. I will see you soon, within a cycle or two, certainly. Then we will have all the time we need.”

“I understand.” Caria forced the words out, determined to maintain an air of normality. He mustn’t suspect. She couldn’t allow him to get even an inkling of what she had planned. “Take care.”

He marched to the door.

“Sir, before you go…”

He turned.

“I wonder, may I see Doctor Morele again?”

Phahlen came back to the bed where she still lay, naked. “Why? Are you ill?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. Just a bit tired, and…”

“You should have told me that you were unwell.”

“I’m fine. I would like to talk to Doctor Morele though. If that’s allowed…”

“Of course it is allowed. I shall summon him now. The pre-flight checks can wait.”

“
No
!” Caria had to work to rein in the urgency in her tone. The last thing she wanted was for Phahlen to be present while she saw the doctor. He
had
to leave her alone with the medic. Everything rested on that. “It’s not for me, and not even urgent. I want to ask him about my mother’s treatment. It would help me to cope if I could understand exactly what’s happening. I thought I’d take a nap right now, then maybe if he could call in an hour or so. If that’s convenient…”

Phahlen regarded her for several long moments, then nodded. “I will ask him to call in later then, as long as you are sure you’re not ill.”

She knelt up to kiss him. “I’m fine. Really. Now go, they’ll be waiting.”

“I’m in command here, let them fucking wait,” he growled. But he kept the kiss brief, and moments later the door swung shut behind him as the DNA-activated lock clicked into place.

So far so good. Now she needed to get ready for the next part of her scheme. She went over to the hospitality station and requested a large bottle of water.

* * *

Sounds in the outer chamber heralded the doctor’s visit. Caria rushed to the bedroom door and pressed herself against the wall beside it. The door swung aside and the doctor entered. Caria gritted her teeth and swung into action. The bottle of water was a dead weight in her hand as she swung it at the medic’s head. He crumpled to the floor with a grunt, and she leapt forward to grab his medical bag. The blow had stunned the doctor, but she knew he wouldn’t be down for long. Caria had no desire to hit him again, but she would if she had to. A better solution, though, would be found in his bag.

She rifled through the equipment and drugs until she found what she needed—an analgepen. Caria adjusted the setting to administer the correct dose to keep the doctor safely anaesthetised for the next few hours, which she had looked up on the ship’s medical database the previous day. She pressed the end of the pen to his temple, and pressed the trigger. The doctor went limp.

Caria took a few moments to check his pulse and breathing. Satisfied that he was in a stable condition, she fished about in his bag again, and this time came up with his medi-tablet. She took a few moments to think back over the instructions she had memorised from the medical database, then she went to work. She found the DNA recognition programme and started it up, then pressed the doctor’s palm against the screen. The device registered his biometric signature and requested further instructions. Caria selected save, and replicate. Moments later the message on the screen assured her that her instructions had been carried out. Time to test it.

Caria scrambled back to the door and pressed the medi-tab to the sensor. She almost wept with relief when the door slid open. She had done it. She had a key.

First though, she had to deal with the sleeping medic. She rolled the man over and dragged him to the bed. It took some effort to lift his inert form onto the mattress but she managed it. Once there, she removed his uniform and donned it herself. She had seen no other females on board the
Empyrean
and her gender was unmistakable, not to mention that she was several centimetres shorter than the doctor. His uniform could hardly be described as even approaching a decent fit. She couldn’t hope to pass undetected among the crew, but the disguise might be enough to provide a few moments’ cover, and with luck that would be enough.

She secured the medic’s ankles to the foot of the bed using the straps that Phahlen usually used for her. She tied the doctor’s wrists behind his back and stood back to survey her work.

She was committed now, no going back. She picked up the tablet, and on impulse shoved the analgepen into a pocket in her new clothes. She scurried back to the door and opened it again using her new DNA ‘key.’ The outer door proved just as obliging. She peeped outside to find the coast was clear, and started down the corridor at a brisk sprint.

By Caria’s reckoning she had maybe half a par-cycle in which to reach the cargo bay and launch pad. It would be quicker to use the transporter system, but she’d learnt the folly of that last time. Use the stairs, Phahlen had advised. She would take him at his word.

The service stairway was located next to the transporter, and her DNA key opened it easily. Caria was uncertain how many floors she had to descend, but was guessing at three. She would need to check at each landing, but there was no avoiding that.

It was four floors in fact, but she encountered no one on her headlong rush down the stairs. Caria crept from the service stairwell to find a scene of intense activity on the other side of the cargo bay. Just as she’d hoped, there was no mistaking which craft was about to be launched. Now all she needed to do was find a way to get on board, unseen, and hide until they landed on the surface of the Teek world.

At that point her carefully laid plan ended. From there she would be playing by ear, but she would somehow find a way to get off the planet and back to Earth.

She waited, hidden behind a stack of packing cases as she had been on her first visit here. Caria watched as Phahlen, wearing a thermal deflector suit similar to the one he had on when first she met him, conversed with Baren at the foot of the gangplank leading up into the craft. As far as she could see there was no other way on board, but crewmen passed to and fro carrying equipment and supplies. Two other crew members wore suits like Phahlen’s so she surmised these had to be his skeleton crew.

Caria pondered the prospect of just marching up to the craft with some piece of equipment under her arm. Would she be challenged? Once on board, would there be anywhere to hide? The satellite craft looked even smaller than she remembered, and it would be carrying at least three crew.

Another idea occurred to her. Would it work? Could it? She checked her pocket for the analgepen, then she made up her mind.

The smaller of the two crew members was still a whole lot bigger than she was, especially around the middle, but she was facing very limited options. Caria grabbed one of the packing cases in the stack in front of her and emerged from her hiding place. She forced herself to walk slowly across the cargo bay, making sure she averted her face from any other crew member. She was relieved that at least the Vahleans tended to wear their hair long so hers didn’t give her away. No one challenged her as she approached the small craft. She placed the packing case down and crouched by one of the struts supporting the craft. From the corner of her eye she watched her target, and prayed he wouldn’t turn out to be the pilot.

Too late to worry about that now. Her quarry ambled past her and exchanged a remark or two with the engineer in charge of fuel levels. Seemingly satisfied, he disappeared around the other side of the craft. Her heart in her mouth, Caria followed.

The crewman was peering at a dial on the side of the satellite ship, and making notes on a hand-held tablet. Caria glanced around. All the activity was in the main bay, there was no one else on this side of the craft. She pulled the pen from her pocket and crept forward.

The man turned at the last moment. “Hey, I need you to—”

He got no further. Caria leapt forward and pressed the end of the pen against his temple. The man started to yell, but the anaesthetic took effect before his vocal cords could react. He slumped forward and Caria lowered him quietly to the floor. She had adjusted the dosage to account for his larger frame, and if his deep, regular breathing was any indication she had got it about right. She pulled him into an alcove, then shoved three portable kinogen tanks across the entrance to conceal the pair of them from view. It was then the work of just a few par-beats to peel his suit from him and pull it on over her uniform. The helmet was strapped to the huge belt that buckled around the waist and she pulled that down over her head and flicked the facemask closed to perfectly conceal her features. She tucked the medi-tablet beside the sleeping crewman. It had done its work for her and now would best serve by continuing to emit Morele’s DNA signature, creating the impression that the doctor was on the launch deck, not fast asleep in the commander’s quarters. Eventually her deception would be discovered, but it would buy her more time.

“Two hundred and forty par-beats to launch. Crew to stations.”

The announcement rang around the cargo bay as Caria emerged from the alcove. Her luck was holding. Now all she needed to do was follow Phahlen and the other crew member on board, and they’d be off.

She marched around the small craft and saw Phahlen ascend the gangplank. The other suited crewman followed and Caria fell in behind. When she arrived on the tiny flight deck,
it was to find just one seat unoccupied, and mercifully it was at the rear of the capsule. Phahlen was in the pilot’s seat and already operating the controls. He glanced back as Caria took her seat, then hit the switch to close and lock the doors.

“All personnel on station? Reports please.”

“Affirmative, sir.” The other crewman replied calmly and Phahlen nodded. He cocked his head in her direction.

“Affirmative, sir.” The facemask muffled her voice, and Caria deliberately dropped it an octave or two. It seemed to work and Phahlen’s attention remained on the final preparations required to launch the craft.